


Left with the Broken Pieces

by actualjohnwatson, The Little MerBucky (blue_pointer)



Series: Dead in Places [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Aunt Peggy Carter, Big Brother Talk, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Depression, Dreaming, Dreamtime, Fatal Attraction, Flying Cars, Heartbroken Tony, Howard Stark is not a role model, Iron Soldier, James "Rhodey" Rhodes - Freeform, Jealous Tony Stark, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Tony Stark, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Peggy Carter - Freeform, Pep talks, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Promises, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rage, Sassy Tony Stark, Self-Hatred, Sleep Deprivation, Stony - Freeform, Stucky - Freeform, Talking, Therapy, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Wakanda, Wanda Maximoff - Freeform, arguments i have had, bucky/tony - Freeform, don't call me short, evil monsters club, first get a magnifying glass, how to read Steve Rogers' mind, i like short sassy things, i like tall blue-eyed things, i love steve rogers hey so do i, i want babies do you, insults between friends, lying on sexy men helps me fall asleep, mechanics are sexy, of robots, oh look a bed, sam wilson - Freeform, sharon carter - Freeform, stony vs. stucky, surprise snuggling, what is my subconscious trying to tell me for real, what is this singing, when I grow up, winteriron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualjohnwatson/pseuds/actualjohnwatson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/The%20Little%20MerBucky
Summary: With Bucky in cryo in Wakanda, it's going to be difficult for his correspondence with Tony to continue.Then, Tony has the weirdest dream.Wait, so does Bucky.What's going on?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is where it gets strange. But not the capital S kind of Strange. That would involve one of the authors throttling the other.

If he keeps working, maybe he can get through it. ‘It’ being not thinking about Steve. Tony swallows, wiping sweat out of his eyes--it’s just sweat, nothing else. Nothing at all. If he could just stop thinking about Steve, he’d be fine. He could sleep. He’s been trying to exhaust himself for the last day and a half, but his eyes are still open, still burning.

The trouble is, if he lies down... the things he tries to forget pour into him. Break him apart. And that’s worse. So much worse. Tony’s limbs feel heavy. He’s been working under this Firebird for...he could ask F.R.I.D.A.Y., but chooses not to. He doesn’t want to know.

Tony pushes himself out from under the car, looking up at the fluorescent lights in his workshop. How is he supposed to move on? How is he supposed to sleep without Steve there beside him? In their bedroom. In their bed. Every time he thinks about it, he feels like he’s getting stabbed in the chest. And yeah, he’s had that experience.

His heart feels heavy every time he thinks about what Steve is doing. Is he with his old pal Bucky? Ouch, heartbreak. Is he even thinking about Tony? _Stab_. Does he even care anymore? _Stab stab._

He sighs audibly to the empty room. Maybe if he just rests his eyes. Maybe if he closes them for a second his brain will stop beating itself up. Just for a second.

 

~

 

When he opens his eyes again the bright lights of his workshop are gone. Soft white light breaks through a thick white cloud. He blinks again. Is it smoke? He jumps up from the roller he was on--did he set something on fire again?! He stands, taking stock of his surroundings. And he’s...not in Kansas anymore.   

It’s fog. A mist. Moist and cool on his skin. Weird. He’s dreaming. He must be dreaming. This is so...vivid. He starts to wander. Lost. Nothing but fog for a long time.

A low, drawling voice, not one he recognizes, calls his name.  

_Tony._

_You were in a bad place. It's understandable_...

He listens, anger swelling in him. It’s Barnes. And he’s...defending Steve. God. _Thanks, subconscious._ This is a nightmare. _Wake up, Tony. Wake up._ He scowls. Opens his mouth to respond. “I want to forgive him. I don't know how. I wish I could.” Out there in the mist, Tony gets the creepy feeling someone is listening. So he raises his voice. “I don't need to be protected from the truth.” Tony scowls. As much as he misses Steve, he cannot get over the complete...betrayal he still feels. “That's not how it works. Not when you have something together.  I'm not an expert on the emotional crap, but keeping something that big from your boyfriend is stupid.”

The mist feels surprised at this. How does Tony know this? It’s just a feeling. _Weird dream._

“It's stupid and hurtful. It makes a person angry.”

“Oh, uh. Oh. I didn’t--oh.” Wait, is the mist answering him? In Barnes’ voice? “Still...if you love ‘im, you just do. That’s how it works.”

Tony grits his teeth. If he had something to kick he would kick it. "Oh, come on. ‘You just do.’ That's bullshit. It's real pain that he caused. It’s not just going to go away. I want some kind of apology for that. A real one. And a hug. And flowers. And then maybe if he doesn't just go running back to you--to Wakanda, maybe then I will forgive him.”

“Holy shit.” That’s dream-Barnes. Tony can see him now. Fuck, this is weird. He wonders if this is the first he’s heard of Steve’s little romance. He certainly looks surprised. Maybe they’re in the same boat here. Not that that makes it any better. Steve still kept the truth from him. Still hurt him. Still left him for this guy.

“You're alive,” Tony tells him. That should be enough. It would be enough for Steve. “That makes Steve happy. His memory of you outshone any happiness I could give him. Maybe you don't understand what you mean to him. I wish I could show you that when he talks about you his face looks like it belongs with the stars. You're what makes him happy. I'm just not enough.”

 

*

 

Tony’s still talking. Bucky’s pretty sure he doesn’t see him. If he did, he’d be attacking him, right? Is he dead? Is this what it feels like to be a ghost? Or maybe it’s just a dream. A dream where Tony isn’t trying to kill him--physically. He’s just telling Bucky that he’s Steve’s boyfriend--ex-boyfriend? A really...what do you call it? High-maintenance one. _Damn, Stevie, what did you get yourself into?_

“I can’t make Steve happy.” That was something Bucky was 100% sure of. “That’s his memories. It’s not me. What’s enough...I’m just not the person to ask about that stuff.” He feels bad. Wants to give Tony some words of encouragement. Try to ease some of the hurt Steve left behind. But he can’t. “I’m sorry. I really...I don’t know anything about that. But I feel like…” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.” About anything. Relationships are far past what he can handle anymore. That’s part of why he’s asleep now.

"You say what you want but I know what I saw,” Tony tells him. “I watched him fight for you. You still matter. You still matter to him. No matter what you think you've become. There's always something better on the other side.” He takes a shaky breath. Looks like he’s trying hard. “Isn't there? I mean if Steve cares about you. If _people_ care about you."

“There is no other side.” Bucky shakes his head, eyes blank. Can’t believe things have gotten so bleak he’s dreaming about Tony Stark trying to make him feel better.

“Well fuck that.” Tony grits his teeth. “Look, buddy, I know what hopelessness feels like, okay? When you wake up with a car battery strapped to your chest, you figure it out and you keep going.” His voice is getting louder. “When your whole company is snatched away from you and your--your friend tries to kill you, you take back what's yours and you move on.” And louder. “When you break up with the love of your life, break up because you're afraid. Because you've turned into a coward, and you can't fight anymore. You get up anyway. You get up and you walk away. You have to get up. Get up. Get up, goddamn you. You're worth something. There is always another side."

Bucky’s not sure who Tony’s yelling at; is it Bucky or himself? He feels for him. Bucky watches Tony with sad eyes, feeling about a million years old. _If you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop._ “I’m a monster,” he says quietly.

"Yeah? Welcome to the club.” Tony’s breathing hard, trying to get himself under control. “They call me the merchant of death. I've tried to move forward but it's always going to be there in the back of my mind. The knowledge that I've killed innocent people. Children."

Bucky finds that hard to believe. Even if Tony has killed them, it’s not in the way Bucky has. “I feel like it’s a little different when you’re the one pulling the trigger. Or stabbing someone. Or breaking their neck.”

"Sure it's different.” Tony doesn’t miss a beat before returning volley. “Doesn't make my thing easier to deal with. You think it's easy when someone stops you and says you killed their child? Or Wanda. you know how long it took Wanda to look at me? Just--just to separate me from what I made?” He shakes his head. Bucky can tell something about Wanda--isn’t that the little girl who has telekinesis?--or what happened with her really bothers Tony.

“And then there are the other nameless people I've killed. Who knows how many? It's not easy for me either. Don't fight me on semantics."

“I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings, Tony.”  

" _You're_ trying to validate _my_ feelings? Who the fuck are you? How can you say that and then...talk about yourself like you're a monster? You've been through some fucking trauma. You’re the one who needs to be validated."

“I’m--not--” Bucky looks away. The ground. The ground is safer to look at. “You saw what I did. And I’ve done worse--so much worse.” He presses fingers to his eyes for a second. “I shouldn’t exist.”

"Jeez that's so defeatist. I know that you think you deserve to be put in a little metal box, but you don't. You deserve to heal. I know it's easier to go back to oblivion. Trust me, buddy, I do. But maybe you should be the one rescuing yourself.”

Bucky’s just quiet. He deserves way more than just to be locked up. Tony should know that. And he doesn’t know even the tip of the iceberg. It’s so weird dreaming of Tony as his own personal cheerleader. He knew his mind was broken, but he never would have guessed he’d dream this.

“And if he lets you rot in there, then he's an idiot.”

Bucky can’t not defend Steve. “Steve’s not...he’s just. He’s trying. He’s got a much better chance without me.” Bucky shakes his head. He’s worse than a millstone.

"He's not going to just let you go. Steve doesn’t just ‘let things go.’ I thought you were his friend? Don't you know him at all? He’s a stubborn jackass. It's like his default setting."

Bucky can’t argue with that. He remembers _that_ much of Steve, at least, but… “He did let me go,” Bucky tells him, a little sad, a little triumphant. The look on Steve’s face before they closed the lid... Bucky had closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to see that look as they put him to sleep. “And it’s not his choice. This is what’s best...for everyone.”

"And that's what you wanted?"

“The world is a better place--a safer place without me in it. Steve will understand someday.” Well, maybe not. But everyone else does. It’s not Steve’s choice. Bucky’s protecting everyone the only way he can.

"Why did he let me go?"

There’s true grief there. Bucky can hear it, feel it, and he’s responsible. It’s his fault Steve did this to Tony. His...boyfriend. Bucky just watches him, trying to think of how he can fix it. “I--I don’t think he did. I--he wrote you that letter. You have a way to contact him...right? I think he wants to reconcile. Just. Not about the Accords.” When governments own you, control you, that’s bad. It can only be bad. It seems like a good thing, but it turns out to be the worst thing. Bucky knows better than anyone. Tony seemed to get that in the end. They’d had to act against Zemo when they did. To wait for governments to find out, to decide...it would have been too late.

"Pfft that trash letter? That letter is an excuse to rub my face in the fact that he was right. It's not an apology." Tony snaps.

Bucky watches him quietly, measuring. “If you really think that, you don’t know Steve very well.”

 

*

 

Oh, if anything was going to piss him off, it was that. "I don't know Steve? Yeah. I don't know him half as well as you do. But it was me waking up with him if he had nightmares. Me talking through reports with him at the end of the day. Me encouraging him to go back to art school. Me that made a home for him. A family. But maybe I don't know what I'm talking about."

Barnes gets very quiet. He looks...hurt. _Good_ , Tony thinks. Misery loves company. “I was there when he wrote that letter, Tony,” he says. “That’s not what he meant.”

"You were there? Did you two laugh about it together?" _Oh god._ He just feels...wrecked.

“What?” Barnes looks up. “No!”

“The man literally broke my heart--or the thing that keeps my heart beating. Used to. Used to keep me alive. It's a very sensitive area. A very sensitive point."

Barnes looks guilty at that. “I tried to rip it out. That was me.…You should be mad at _me_ for that. Not Steve.”

"You helped, sure. You're not forgiven by the way, I mean with you it's a little bit more understandable. You're not in control. That's why...why I wish things had gone differently with you. But Steve was in complete control of his actions. He...hurt me. He could have killed me! I thought...I really thought he was going to.”

“He was just protecting me. Because you wouldn’t stop.”

"He was just protecting you in the end? When he ripped my face plate off, huh? When I thought he was going to take my head off? That was him trying to protect you? Because it felt really different to me. It felt like the man I- someone I cared for--it felt really different. There's protection, Barnes, and then there's savagery. That was too far. I'm sorry for what I did to you. I wasn't much better. But I didn't love you. Maybe he really never loved me. Maybe I'm better off thinking he didn't."

“I don’t get that logic,” Barnes shoots back. “You never hurt someone you loved?” He pauses, frustrated. “Look, I can’t tell you what to think. But maybe you shouldn’t ignore good memories because of bad ones. At least you have memories. Intact ones. Real ones.”

Love. Comfort. Home. He’d had it with Steve. Really had it. "I fucked it up, Barnes. Those are memories now. I should have...I wish things had ended differently. But they didn't. Now we're left with the broken pieces."

“It’s not the end for you,” Barnes tells him. “You’re an engineer, Tony. You know what you can do with broken pieces? Build things. Build new things.”

"New things out of what? With who? Not Steve. I don't want to call him." There it is out in the open. "I don't know what to say." He wants...he wants to hear Steve's voice. He wants to see him. Touch him. But...

“Say--” Barnes seems to self-edit. Start over. “The magic words. Say ‘I’m sorry.’ Say ‘Fuck you for dropping the shield when I was having a temper tantrum.’ Say anything. Just call ‘im. _Try_.”

Tony's eyes burn with tears. He shuts them tight. He's starting to feel overwhelmed. "Come home? Come back? Why don't you love me anymore?" Weak. Pathetic.

Barnes looks maddeningly sympathetic. How dare he? “You don’t just stop loving somebody, Tony. That’s not how it works. Even I know that.”

He knows Barnes is right. He's still lost. Hates it. So, so unsure of what to say. What to do. Part of him wants to beg forgiveness. The other part wants to scream at the self righteous ass. "Look I'll call him. I will, alright? Just--not now. Gimme time.”

Barnes nods, showing an infuriating amount of patience. “Okay, Tony.” Then he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, changing the subject. “About what happened in Siberia…”

Tony scrubs a hand over his face. Do they _have_ to talk about what happened in Siberia?

“You hurt me in a way Steve couldn’t fix. He lost it. Maybe you never saw his dark side before. But wouldn’t you do the same for someone you cared about? His Majesty said you shot Sam when he came to help your friend.”

Tony visibly winces. "Wilson. He--let's not bring Rhodey into this."

“Why?” Barnes asks. “Because you love him, too?”  He looks genuinely curious, like love is a foreign concept to him.

"Yeah, of course I do." Tony frowns. "He's...my Rhodey." How can he make it clearer then that? "This isn't his mess; it's mine, and he got pulled into it. In the worst possible way."

Barnes looks guilty again. Like he thinks this is all about him. Please.

Rhodey could have died. Very nearly did. It terrified Tony. He felt like everything he had worked for was falling apart. First Steve, then  the Avengers. Rhodey was all he had left. Oh it hurt. He’d lashed out. "Sam probably deserves flowers too," he murmurs, making a mental note, the hurt and grief subsiding just a little.

“Send it to his stupid face.” Barnes almost smiles. “Tell him ‘Stupid flowers for your stupid face.’” His eyes are distant, but not unhappy for the first time in their conversation.

_Oh wait. Never mind._ "I never beat someone I loved into the ground." Tony scowls.

“But wouldn’t you?” Barnes asks. “If your...Rhodey tried to kill Steve. If he lost his mind, and wouldn’t stop, even when you begged him. And he really hurt Steve. Like...blew off one of his legs, and he was lying there, maybe dying...wouldn’t you? Can you really say you would be able to stop yourself?”

"Oh god, Steve." He closes his eyes. "I wouldn't wanna have to choose something like that.” Barnes watches him, looking vaguely vindicated. “It would be like trying to decide which hand to chop off." _Whoops_. "Sorry."

Barnes shrugs. “Wasn’t my hand.” Which is an odd thing to say, all things considered.

“Maybe he...This is stupid I'm not blaming you for what he did. Stop taking up for him. "

“No.” Barnes looks so determined, it’s hard to tell if he’s Winter Soldier or Howling Commando Bucky Barnes from the trading cards he’d collected as a kid.

"I need to be angry. And it's stupid to be angry with you, and I'm already furious at myself. Let me have an outlet! Let me be mad at Steve, goddamnit--I'm not going to fight him...or hurt him...I just--I need to be angry."

“Only if you think you’ll get over it in time. He needs you, Tony. _I_ need you. To take care of him for me.”

"He's not needy. He doesn't need me. I need him. I need the home we built. I need that...other shit. Steve can make it in his own. I've got that damn letter memorized."

 

*

 

Bucky’s doing pretty well with Tony’s denial until he says ‘Steve can make it on his own.’ That’s like some kind of trigger, and Bucky jumps up, grabbing a table that’s somehow there in the dreamscape, and shaking it and banging it against the ground with his remaining hand while he yells, until its structural integrity is questionable. “No he can’t!” Bucky’s very upset about this. “He says he can, but he can’t! That’s the whole thing. He never wants help, but he needs it! It’s my job! It’s _my_ job to take care of him, and I can’t!” He slumps over the table, face hidden by his hair, breathing hard.

"Whoa, relax there champ. Relax. Maybe we can help him together huh? Can't do it without you. Breathe. He needs help, we'll help him.” Tony doesn’t seem concerned for his safety. In spite of Bucky’s violent outburst, he’s not backing away, or guarding himself. He should be, Bucky thinks.

“You don’t understand." Bucky’s breathing is ragged. “My program was never deactivated. They killed--” _my master._ “--the man. My--” _master._ “--handler. He didn’t give me a different mission. Don’t you understand?” Bucky looks at Tony with the eyes of a wild animal. “Steve is still my mission.” He’s breathing, but it doesn’t seem to be getting any better. “Every second he’s near me, he’s in danger.”

“We’ll fix it, Barnes. Okay? We’ll fix it with therapy or relocation. Or emotional and mental manipulation...We’ll fix it.”

Manipulation? Those are words that are triggering a panic response in Bucky. He starts to look around, eyes wild, like a frightened animal.

But Tony’s calm, like he has a plan. He scratches his head, masterfully changing the subject. “There’s something that’s been bothering me. You mentioned a blond woman making him happy. You mean the spy? Little Sharon Carter? I think...I think Aunt Peggy would be rolling in her grave. But it's not like he did much better when he was with me.”

“That blond woman is related to Agent Carter?” Bucky’s distracted by this news. “Holy shit.” Neurons are firing, but Bucky can’t get a handle on them. Times like this, he just sits and waits for the fireworks to stop. Agent Carter. What Bucky remembers of her:

1) a rack that wouldn’t quit.

2) The way Steve used to look at her made him want to slit his wrists.

He’s not sure why.

And 3) she had a set of balls for a dame

"That's Aunt Peggy's niece,” Tony continues. “We grew up hearing the same stories. She--I don't want him to be with her. You...you I can take.”

Bucky feels awkward….awkward. He’s not taking Steve from anyone. Even his high-maintenance boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend?

“What he's doing with Sharon is wrong. And not fair. So not fair. You ever have your little cousin steal your man? No, don't answer that. You don't remember anyway."

Bucky just looks at Tony. Brutal, but true. Who is this kid? “But I mean, you’re not related to Agent Carter...right?”

"We weren't related by blood, no. But she helped raise me. I loved her like family. I've found that's what counts in life."

The more Bucky thinks about it, the more sick he feels. Agent Carter’s niece… “I think I’m gonna throw up,” Bucky says weakly, his face a mask of disgust. “And Steve knows?”

"Um from what I heard, he found out at Peg’s funeral and then planted one on her. It's like he was less attracted to her before he knew who she was."

Bucky feels so sick. _Steve, what the hell are you doing?_ He needs to talk to him--no. No. Sam will. Sam can do that.

Tony doesn’t seem satisfied with Bucky’s reaction. He tries to goad him into feeling something. “Come on, doesn’t that make you want to fight?”

Bucky hates it. But it’s not for him to choose. He has no right to make decisions for Steve or Steve’s life. Not him. He doesn’t deserve anything.

Tony pulls at his hair, making his curls stand on end, clearly frustrated, “Just...come on. Live. Live for yourself. Live for Steve, I don't care--gross--but I mean at least you'd be alive. Now you're just...you're just taking up space and making everybody else depressed."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes Bucky a surprising offer. They keep talking, about suicide attempts, murder, therapy, nicknames, promises, mind-reading, childhood dreams, and of course, Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard for actualjohnwatson not to scream all the spoilers at this point. We wrote this chapter together; I'm not sure why ao3 thinks we didn't, all of a sudden.

Bucky wishes so much he could stop taking up space. He looks down while Tony gives his little speech. If only Tony had pulled a gun on him, he could lean against the barrel. “I tried to end it. It doesn’t work.” 

"Then maybe it's time to try something else. There are people out there who want to help you. Try." It’s desperation on Tony’s face, shoulders slumped like he’s crushed.

“No one can help me.” Bucky’s sure of it. “Maybe if I wait like this, they’ll be able to find someone. And this way, I can’t hurt anybody.”

Tony shakes his head, frustrated. His hands are in the pockets of his jeans, and he bounces on the balls of his feet, restless. "Can I help you? You don't deserve this, Barnes. I've already given you that locked in a tower speech once, don’t make me repeat myself. It’s tedious." 

“Tony.” God, he hates that he keeps calling him Barnes. Bucky looks up at him through all the hair in his face. “How can you--I killed your parents. I murdered them. I can’t ask for your help.” Though Steve had said, if things had been different, Tony probably would have been able to help. He’d thought about asking him. But he wanted Tony to call first. To make things right first. To make sure he wouldn’t try to hurt Bucky again first. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve anybody’s.” He’s just staring at the table, partly holding it up, partly propping himself up with it. 

"Just don't bring it up, and we'll be fine. Don't bring her up. Please.” Sorrow and desperation seep out over his carefully controlled features. “I wanna help you. I can't--I can’t bring myself to if you talk about it every five minutes. You do deserve it.”

Bucky disagrees strongly with that assertion, but he’s done arguing that point...for now. 

Tony considers for a minute. "Wanda could help you. Wanda could work with you. And Sam. We'll figure it out. Until then, you don't have to see Steve if you’re so worried about hurting him.” It could be Bucky’s imagination, but it seems like Tony would rather avoid Steve if possible.  
“We don't even have to tell him. Let me help you. There's always another side." 

“Wanda?” That doesn’t make sense to Bucky. “That little girl? What’s she gonna do, drop a building on me?” Then again…

"No. Nothing like that.” Tony scowls. “Besides, she owes me a favor."

Bucky shakes his head. He doesn’t know from this, but if it’s not safe for her, if it’s a waste, he’ll send her away.  
He thinks about it. Not see Steve? Be awake and not tell him? Something inside of Bucky aches at that thought. But he’d have his journals. He could find pictures of Steve, like before. It would be sort of like he was there. In a way. But wouldn’t Steve look for him? “I don’t know…” Bucky hesitates. 

"Not forever. Just until you think you can handle it. Then we can tell him. It'll be a big surprise. He'll love it." Tony smiles, big and cheesy. It looks fake to Bucky. What’s Tony hiding? Pain? That must be it. He hangs his head. This is why he’s asleep. Seems like pain is all he can ever cause.

But Tony wants to do it for Steve, like some weird twist on Pygmalion. He sighs. “Is this a trick?” It doesn’t really matter if it is. Part of him just needs to ask. 

"No trick. Just wanna make this right. I don't want this to be one more thing I have to regret in my life.”

So many things just can’t be made right. Bucky’s had to accept that. “You’re too young to be talkin’ like that,” he tells Tony.

"You're nine years younger than me." Tony shoots back, dismissive. He looks like he wants to say more, but puts a lid on it for now. 

Bucky snorts. “You’re 60 plus years younger than ME by my count.” He looks at Tony, trying not to smile. “Respect your elders, sonny.”

"I'm talking about life experience here, teddy bear. I have more points than you." Tony smirks.

If they’re talking points, Bucky’s not so sure about that. He’s thinking he could give Tony a run for his money, regardless of years spent living. He tilts his head, about to say so.

Tony’s smile falters, and his face flashes from heartbreak to neutral in a matter of seconds. "I've had this conversation before."

Something about that face makes Bucky want to pull him into his lap and read him a bedtime story. He sighs. “I’m sorry, Tony.” He can’t not remind him of Steve. Steve is part of him. The best part. He’s avoided it for a long time, but even Bucky stopped trying to deny it months ago.

"It's fine. I'm fine." He keeps his voice as neutral as possible.

He’s clearly not fine. But Bucky doesn’t imagine Tony would welcome a hug from the one-armed monster who killed his parents. He’s probably not even the hugging type, come to think of it. All Bucky can really do is watch him with sad eyes. 

Bucky tries desperately to think of something that will cheer Tony up. Or at least provide a distraction, take his mind off of Steve. 

* 

“Actually,” Barnes tells him, “I lied. We did laugh once when Steve wrote the letter...about the address. That was my idea.” He looks away, his expression apprehensive. “Sorry.” 

"Oh. That." Rhodey. Tony smiles softly. An unguarded one. The first he's given to this...suicidal teddy bear. "Don't worry about that.” It had made Rhodey laugh and the sound had been like music. The only good to come from that goddamn letter. 

Barnes looks surprised by Tony’s reaction to that news. “Okay…” he says, hesitantly. “Stank.” He almost smiles.

Tony smirks. Almost a joke. "I didn't say you could use it, Barnes.”

“I’ll keep using it if you call me Barnes one more time.” He looks serious. Tony is unimpressed. He lives with the Black Widow. Or did.

"What do I call you then? I'm not calling you Bucky." Tony makes a stink face. 

Barnes shrugs. “Not Manchurian Candidate.” 

"I'll work on something."

“Just so long as it isn’t Barnes.” 

There’s a pause. Are they not enemies anymore? An odd feeling of equilibrium creeps into the conversation. Then Barnes disrupts the feeling. “Tony...why are you doing this?”

"Because...because I want to. Isn't that a good enough answer?" And he does. It’s the right thing to do isn’t it? And maybe part of him is doing this for Steve. All of him. All of him is doing this for Steve.

“No.” Barnes shakes his head. “It’s not.” So there are a lot of trust issues here. Not surprising. 

This is like the third time this question’s come up. Come on Stark, fess up. "Because it'll make Steve happy. There. You got me. Sure I think you deserve a second chance. Yes I definitely think I fucked up and I wanna make it up to you but...this is for Steve."

Barnes nods. Looks like that’s an answer he can accept. “For Steve.”

Tony feels an inexplicable need to bridge the gap between them a little more. "Look, I've done things I'm not proud of. I was in control. You weren't. Nobody blames you. Nobody." Not anymore. 

Barnes favors him with a bitter, ironic smile. “So you’re sayin’ nobody’s gonna stop me and say I killed their child? You gonna vouch for that?”

"That's what started this whole thing. " Tony says quietly. "But the difference between some lady shitting on me and cracking open my armor, is everybody knows who I am. Nobody knows you. We cut your hair, clean you up and no one will look twice at the winter soldier."

Barnes just looks at Tony. “My face was in every newspaper on the planet. Remember? Even if it were possible...they always find me. Always.” His gaze drops to the ground, that of a beaten dog, hopeless. “And that’s--Winter Soldier--that’s not who I am.” It’s like he needed to say it to prove a point to himself. 

"Right but people forget, like goldfish. And they only see what they want to see. Let me clean you up. We'll give you a new name if that's what you want."

“I don’t want a new name.” He looks up at Tony, more man than dog again. “And when they come for me?”

"Then they'll deal with my lawyers. Like they should have in the beginning. If Steve had just talked to me about it in the beginning, things would be different." Annoying. So annoying. 

Barnes looks confused. “What’re your lawyers gonna do to stop Hydra?” 

Oh. That's a bit of a shock. "I--me. I can stop them. It's not like it would be the first time I've had to drop some Hydra goon."

“Tony...that’s a sweet thought, but these people...they’ve recaptured me so many times. The Winter Soldier me. No offense, but you’re no match for them. And it’s dangerous to get in their way.” He shakes his head. “I can’t let you do that.” 

Rude. Tony blinks. It feels like he’s being underestimated. "We'll keep you hush hush. We'll move you around every six months, whatever you want. They won’t even begin to sniff you out. Or," he swallows. "If you really want to, we can stay in Wakanda." The worst possible outcome, but whatever it takes.

Barnes shakes his head. “I’ve tried all of that, Tony. It never works.” He sighs. “If the king is willing, it seems like the safest place, for now.”

"I wonder...do you think Steve's still there?" That's the last thing he wants to do is see Steve pining over Bucky, and if Steve is still there, that's all he's going to be doing.

“I think…” Barnes stops to think about this. “I think so.” He looks back up at Tony. “But you know Steve. Someone or something will need saving, and he’ll be off again.”

The thought of seeing Steve makes his stomach churn. "Just to clarify, how important is it that you stay in Wakanda?" And more importantly, why was he such a masochist?

*

“Pretty important,” Bucky says, guessing what the problem is. “Even if there was a safer place to move me--moving me isn’t safe, and I couldn’t go anywhere without at least letting Steve know.” But really, Steve should be part of the decision. Because...he’s the one who still wants Bucky here. He’s the one who gave up or destroyed everything he had for him. Bucky can’t ignore that sacrifice, even if it would be better for Steve if he just disappeared.

"Okay, we stay in Wakanda." Tony slumps a little. "I can make it work. If Steve's there maybe you can just be with him. Leave me out of it. All that matters is that you’re willing to try. And...nobody's gonna let you hurt him. They're scary motherfuckers."

“No!” Bucky makes an angry chopping motion with his hand. “If we do this, you have to stay. If I could have stayed awake just for Steve, I would have.” Now his eyes are pleading with Tony. “If I thought Steve was safe in Wakanda with me the way I am, I wouldn’t have gone to sleep. You have to stay, Tony. Promise me. At least until I’m better...until we’re sure. You have to promise me you’ll take care of Steve.”

"I can try. It's not going to be easy for me. You get that, right?" 

“I don’t think it’s going to be easy for anyone. It was your idea,” Bucky feels the need to point out.

"Yeah. I didn't--" Tony seems to catch himself, reconsider his words. “I didn't say it was impossible just...hard."

“Hard.” Bucky shrugs. An understatement. “All around.” 

Bucky thinks of something Tony said a while back. He licks his lips, looking down. “You really would have helped Steve if he’d asked? Even though it was me? You wouldn’t have gotten...defensive?” Jealous. That was the word, but he didn’t want to say it out loud.

"Defensive? Only if Steve made it seem like he was going to leave me and run away with you. Oh wait." The sarcasm is palpable. 

There’s so much pain there. It cuts like a razor. Bucky looks away. “So the answer is ‘yes’.”

"He didn't even try. 'Oh Tony I want you to open up to me about your problems,’” he sing-songs in falsetto. "Whatever Cap, it's a two way street." He glances at Bucky. "Sorry. But it's true."

Bucky shrugs. “He’s always been like that. You just gotta learn to read his mind.”

"Hey, genius level intellect and I still can't figure that one out. Not that I've ever been that great reading people anyway."

“I guess…” He didn’t mean to make Tony feel bad. “Maybe it’s just growing up with ‘im.” 

Tony sighs, "Well it's a super power I don't have."

Bucky doesn’t really know what to say. It would be hard as hell to communicate with Steve otherwise, he thinks. He’s not sure what it would be like, because he’s always known what Steve was thinking. “If I could teach it to you…” Bucky shrugs. But he doubts it’s a thing that can be taught.

"If you could teach me, I'd learn it."

“I can try.” Bucky attempts a hesitant smile. He fails. “But that means we all have to be in the same place.” He looks at Tony. “Can you do that?” 

"Like in the same room? Together? All of us?" Bucky guesses from the look on his face that he’d been planning to avoid Steve as much as possible.

Bucky shrugs. “If I try to teach you, yes. You don’t have to.” He still doesn’t really believe it’s possible. 

"No. What's the point?" He looks exhausted. And something else… Defeated. 

“You said--nevermind.” Maybe he could teach Tony something else. He wasn’t sure what just now, but. Something. Maybe. 

“Look if-- If it get’s you out of the metal box-- I’ll try.”  
He shakes his head slowly, looking almost as apprehensive as Bucky feels. "If you’re willing, I'm willing."

Is Bucky willing? To put Steve in danger? To deal with being an amputee? To try to put himself back together again into god knows what? “I don’t know, Tony…” This is a terrible idea. “Maybe we shouldn’t.” It’ll never work. 

"Hey, nope, I've already signed up. You're not getting out of it now."

Bucky sighs, amused. “You’re a plucky little guy, I’ll give you that.” Now who does that remind him of?

"Um little? Excuse me? Rude." Suddenly he’s looking at Bucky, thoughtful.

Bucky snorts. “You got a little temper on you, too.” Seriously. Who does that remind him of?

Tony pouts. "What temper? I'm calm. I'm the epitome of calm."

Bucky narrows his eyes at Tony. He thinks he’s pretty funny. It must be nice to have a sense of humor and self-confidence. And big brown eyes. 

Bucky swipes a hand over his face, taking a deep breath.  
Okay, so... he’s not allowed to bring up why he owes Tony such a debt. Why he doesn’t deserve his help. But it’s hard not to think about the people he killed, now that he remembers so clearly. Bucky starts thinking out loud without really realizing it. “Howard...he was never my friend like he was with Steve...but I--when I was young, I thought I could be something. I wanted to build things. Like him.” There’s a weird feeling that shakes his whole body. Like a sneeze, but something else. 

*

Howard. Jesus Christ. "Not like him. Don't model yourself after dear ol' dad. Pick literally anyone else. Don't...use him as an example."

Barnes’ eyes look at him. Through him. “Why?” 

"Because he's not someone you model yourself after." Keep it vague.The subject is hard enough. 

“When I knew ‘im, he wasn’t that bad. Kind of a know-it-all asshole. But okay. Anyway, it was his brain I looked up to. Not the guy.”

"Yeah, well, time changes people. Not always for the better. Besides what about my brain? Isn't that good enough for you?"

Barnes gives him an odd look. “Don’t know much about your brain.” He offers a lopsided smile. “What else do you make besides the suit?” 

"Cool stuff. Whatever I want. Robots. Before that, weapons." 

Barnes looks intrigued. “When you make whatever you want, you make robots? Do they fly?”

"I fly, does that count? Robots are the hobby projects. Cell phones, laptops, wireless chargers, that’s where the money is."

Barnes does not look impressed. “No flying cars?” 

That’s...Weirdly specific. “I've made one before for a buddy." Whatever happened to Lola anyway?

Barnes looks up. “I wanna see it.”

Tony smirks, "Oh you do? You'd have to be out of cryo to see it, Buckaroo." Technically he just has video evidence that it existed, but he's genuinely interested, and that’s a good thing. 

“Isn’t that what we’re talking about?” Barnes gives him one of those league-long Russian tundra cloaked in ice stares. 

Tony mentally shakes himself. That isn't helping. "So you like engineering huh?" Safe. Definitely a safe topic. 

Barnes shakes his head, shrugs. “I...guess. I used to...I think. I was never smart, but the army was supposed to send me to college. I figured I could learn how to be a mechanic, at least. You know...if I’d...survived.” 

Tony grins unperturbed, he's getting his way after all. "So we're doing this?" We're making Steve happy. "You're re-joining the land of the living?" You're coming home to my lover. "This is great."

“I’ll try.” Barnes still looks hesitant. “If you promise. And if it doesn’t work, I’ll go back.”

Tony shrugs, ignoring him. Once he sets his mind to something, there’s no shaking it. No promises. "So...a mechanic, huh? We can definitely make that happen." This is something he can get behind.

“What? No, Tony--that’s crazy. That was...decades ago. I’m not that person anymore. I don’t think I ever could be again.” He looks pointedly at his left shoulder. “That’s like a punchline to some terrible joke: what do you do with a one-armed mechanic?” He shakes his head. “I can’t even remember what my favourite food is. How to drive a car...you’re gonna give me tools and intricate machinery to work on? I don’t think so.”

"Look, if you give your brain some activity to focus on, it’s going to get better. It’s a muscle. And what do you do if you wanna get stronger? You-- I’m talking to the wrong guy-- You work out. We can start small. Five pound metaphorical dumb bells. We can try knitting. That's fun. Wanda taught me. The repetitive movement would be good for you. Or we can work on my cars. You’re learning a skill. Don't try and work your way out of it." And the one arm thing? It’s not like Tony can’t just build him a new one. Duh.

Barnes sighs. “As long as it’s a one-handed skill...maybe.” He gives Tony an ironic smile. 

Tony sighs "We'll get there, kid." What has he gotten himself into? He can't give up now. 

“Kid?” Barnes is giving him the offended old codger look again. 

"You're old, whatever. Blah blah blah." Tony rolls his eyes. 

Barnes smirks. What's this? Personality? “Respect your elders, sonny.”

"If you call me sonny again, I just might puke. No promises.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re sassy, too.” Bucky’s looking at him strangely, like he’s trying to remember something. “So, instead of Stank, what if I call you Tiny?” Is that a smile lurking in Bucky’s eyes?

"Tiny? No. I have never been tiny--wait are you--" No. No, surely not. He shakes his head. “No one calls me tiny, no."

Bucky snorts. “You are. You’re tiny right now. Look at you.” He walks over to stand by Tony and demonstrate the height difference.

Tony looks up. Blue eyes. He’s such a sucker for blue eyes. He hesitantly, playfully, nudges him away. "Am not. You're just tall." And muscular. Stupid brain.

Bucky smiles. Like he thinks he’s funny. “No, you’re tiny. Look.” He leans over and scoops Tony up over his right shoulder. “I can practically fit you in my pocket.” Bucky starts walking around.

"Oh my god, you did not just pick me up like a sack of potatoes! What the fuck?! Down! Down right now!" Nope. No, this was not happening. Grown-ass men do not get picked up like Hollywood starlets from the 50's.

"Not like a sack of potatoes," Bucky tells him. But he makes no move to put Tony down. Bucky starts to swagger around, still carrying Tony, and belts out a verse or two of "Oh What a Beautiful Morning."

This is so not cute. This is a complete lack of control. He struggles and squawks and it gets him nowhere. Oh what is he _singing_ now? That's definitely not cute. Not at all.

God what is wrong with him?

What is the dreamscape made of? Tony finds himself gently lowered onto a soft, flat surface before being let go. Then Bucky’s falling backwards to lie next to him, arm thrown wide like a one-winged snow angel.

Finally down, he pouts. Rubs at his flushed face. Decidedly does not speak to the guy at all.

But Tony trying to keep a vow of silence is basically impossible anyway.

“So uh what happens now?"

Bucky shrugs. “Fuck if I know. It’s a dream. I figured you’d start puking rainbows, and I’d get attacked by a unicorn or somethin’.”

"Is that how your dreams usually go?" Tony lifts an eyebrow.

 

*

 

“...no. My dreams are usually…” Horrible. Dark. Full of pain and half-memories. “...about sex. Yup.” Sex?? Why did he say that? Since Hydra fell, sex is a physical exercise Bucky has had to perform for money now and again. It’s not a recreational activity, or something he enjoys, so why would he dream of it? Or say he does? "I like it best when I don't dream," Bucky confesses softly, being more honest.

Tony blinks in surprise, "I've been too tired to dream lately. Must be nice to get some kind of a relief.”

It takes Bucky a moment to realize Tony is talking about dreaming of sex. Embarrassing. It's his own fault for lying about it. "I don't --" He should really tell the truth. "--get relief." Well, true without bringing up the lie.

“What's it like being in cryo all the time?"

"It's peaceful," Bucky says. "Like being dead." Except for the nightmares.

"What about now? Is it okay now?"

“Now?” Bucky rolls onto his side to look at Tony lying next to him. “I dunno. Don’t think this has ever happened before.” If it’s a dream, it’s a weird one. “What about you?” He reaches out, his hand sliding across the mattress toward Tony, but stops a few inches short.

Tony looks up and away from Bucky. "Sleeping at all is nice."

“You don’t sleep?” This must be Bucky’s dream, then. That makes sense. Why would Tony dream about him?

"Can't sleep. Not usually."

Bucky is stunned. He doesn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t sleep. “I’m...sorry. That must make you feel...” _Crazy._ That’s the only word Bucky can come up with. But it’s not a compliment, so he doesn’t say it.

"Exhausted? Hyper vigilant? Emotionally drained? Yeah. All of that. I used to think...there was too much to get done and not enough hours in the day. There's still too much going on in my head, but not enough of it is something I can control. It's very hard. It's hard not to seek out oblivion."

_This is a cue,_ Bucky thinks. _It refers to something_. He used to know what it meant. He thinks hard, trying to remember.

Control. Bucky hasn’t struggled with control since it was taken away from him. “It’s hard to accept what you can’t control.” He’s really just thinking out loud, analyzing Tony. Bucky’s survived this long by inventorying what little he could control. Like a confidence-building exercise that’s reduced to minute muscle movements and tactical calculations.

"I should be in control of my own thoughts." He looks frustrated. Tony Stark is probably used to getting his own way. Of course he has control issues.

“Who says?” Bucky can’t control his own mind, but thoughts... Thoughts always do what they want. Doesn’t Tony know that?

"I do. I used to. A long time ago." Tony looks wistful.

“Well, quit it,” Bucky says. “That’s dumb. Too much pressure.” He experiences a brief moment of clarity in which he realizes he’s giving a big brother talk to the guy who almost killed him. A dream. This is definitely a dream.

“So how do you do it?” Bucky asks him. “How do you keep going?” He really wants to know. If there’s something that keeps Tony going, maybe he can use it, too. He’s just lying there, looking at Tony lying next to him within arm’s reach. If it’s just a dream, that means touching is okay. Bucky’s hand slides over the space between them, lifting off the mattress and gently tracing the curve of Tony’s cheekbone with his index finger.

Tony’s breath hitches in his throat, and he shuts his eyes, but he remains still. He doesn’t protest. But he doesn’t reciprocate, either. "It's lame. You don't wanna know."'

Bucky sees how his touch affected Tony’s autonomic nervous system. The hunter mind in him sees vulnerability and demands action. Overpower, dominate, subjugate. But Bucky is a separate person from that mind now. He treasures vulnerability. He gently strokes his thumb down Tony’s cheek before withdrawing his hand. Instead, he just moves closer, so that they’re lying shoulder-to-shoulder, arms touching. The warmth of another human body is everything.

 

*

 

Bucky’s touching him like...he’s something special. Some corner of his brain screams about what a terrible idea this is. He ignores it. He says nothing. He stays still. As still as possible, his hands fidget a bit, hoping for what exactly?

“I do wanna know,” Bucky says softly, adding, “Please.”

He pauses, reluctant. There’s something so personal about sharing this private motivation. But Bucky’s already touching him like he can see the holes in his spirit.

And should it feel this good? His head must be so messed up if he's dreaming of lying next to this man. Someone who shot bullets through his heart. And then stomped on it. No.

But he doesn't pull away.

"There are little kids that wanna be me." Children with bright eyes. "Kids that see the suit and think it'll bring good with it. I don't want them to think the man inside is a coward.”

“You’re not a coward, Tony,” Bucky says softly.

"No. I'm still alive. I'm still sober. I'm no coward."

"Good." Bucky agrees. "That's good, Tony. Almost a self-compliment."

"I'm a lot of things. But a coward isn't one of them, angel face."

“Angel face?” Bucky’s facial expression says it all: he doesn’t know he’s attractive. Is that possible?

"I've seen the pictures. You were--wow. Steve is lucky." The pain in his chest is overwhelming. His eyes begin to tear up. _Fuck, don't start_. He was doing so much better.

“Tony, what the fuck are you talking about? What pictures? Yeah, that guy’s one lucky little punk. You know how many times he almost died as a kid?”

“Just--never mind." Tony huffs, burying his face against Bucky’s arm. Willing the thoughts away. It's easier when he's working. It's easier when he's not still. As far as he can tell, Steve is still lucky.

“Uhhhh...okay.” Bucky seems lost for words.

“I'll never have..." Tony flaps his hand dismissively. "That kind of thing." A family. Someone to love unconditionally.

“Why not?” Bucky’s tone says he doesn’t see a reason not to.

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Who In their right mind would trust me with a kid? Besides that, it's just me. And I'm always doing something stupid."

"Normal people hire nannies to help with their kids...I think. And I could name about 10 worse parents right off the top of my head. They’re not all Hydra agents, either." He smiles. A joke? "Besides, they'd be your kids. No one to trust you with them but you. And a partner, I guess. If that's what you wanted."

"No. No nannies. You get a nanny for your kid if you don't want to raise it. You know how many nannies I had? Six.”

“That ain’t true,” Bucky says. “No one can raise a kid without some kinda help. Family, friends...somethin’.”

"I'm not--I can't do it alone." He has no one. And if he had a kid he'd want to do it right. He'd want to do it better.

“Okay, well. So work on that first, I guess.” Bucky looks awkward. Maybe he feels the ghost of Steve Rogers hovering between them.

"See, that's why. That's why I won't have a family. Because I'm alone." Why is he letting himself be so vulnerable with this guy? Is it the dream state?

“We’re all alone when it comes down to it,” Bucky tells him. “Get over it. You have people who care about you, who would help. You can hire help, too--not for all day every day, just when you need a break and no one else is free to give you one. If you wanna start a family, you can. It’s about what you want. Decide what that it is and do it.” So it’s fine when Bucky wants to give up on living, but if it’s Tony, he get’s a Firm Talking To.

"I don't want to do it alone,” Tony almost whines in his own defense. “I'm not doing it unless someone wants to do it with me, and I'm never gonna have that again." It's a dead dream. "I told you. I told you it was stupid."

“Never say never.” Tony tries not to roll his eyes. Who is Bucky, the suicidal teddy bear, to tell him not to give up on his unrealistic and depressing dreams of family life after _he’s_ become podboy?

Things used to be better. Easier. And he wonders if he can get away with mentioning Steve again. "It helps when I don't sleep alone."

 

*

 

Not sleeping alone. Bucky has vague, unreliable memories...he’d slept in the car a little. Steve and Sam were there. It was something different. Not bad. He imagines it would be better not sleeping alone. But he’s always alone.

“Is there…” No, there probably wouldn’t be anyone else besides Steve for Tony to sleep with. “Well, I’m here.” Bucky glances over at him. “Want to try?”

Tony sighs. "What's it gonna hurt? This keeps getting weirder and weirder. Come on, teddy bear, hold me."

Bucky's surprised by Tony's response. Only thing is... "Okay..." He slides his arm underneath Tony, gently pulls him close. "But you gotta help me a little." He curls his arm around Tony, encouraging him to use Bucky as a pillow. Holding someone with only one arm isn't optimal--not that he’s ever tried it before.

Tony gently lifts his head onto Bucky’s chest, positioning himself so that he can hear his heart beating. He curls one arm up under his chest and the other around Bucky’s side. "Hey is that a heartbeat I hear? Sounds pretty human to me."

[ ](http://beir.tumblr.com/post/162694470843/hey-is-that-a-heartbeat-i-hear-sounds-pretty)

Wow, that’s...Bucky wasn’t expecting Tony to do so much of an on-top-of than snuggled-beside thing. “It’s a dream,” Bucky tells him. “My heartbeat can sound like a brass band if I want it to.”

"No, shut up. Let me have this." Bucky can feel some of the tension leave Tony’s body.

Bucky blinks. _Fine, bossy_. The urge to gently swat his rear-end is strong, and that’s...strange. He’s never wanted to do that to anyone before...not as long as he can remember, anyway. And yet, it pops into his head like it’s the most natural, companionable thing. Instead, he slides his hand up Tony’s back to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You need a break,” Bucky tells him.

"Yeah? When's that gonna happen? There's always shit to do."

"When you give yourself a break. Whenever you decide." Bucky looks at him. "There will always be shit to do. Let someone else take care of it for a change." His fingertips gently trace up and down the curve of Tony’s spine. "Just because you're capable of doing a thing doesn't obligate you to do it."

"Yeah like who? Besides I go crazy left to my own devices."

“Like who?” Oh great, suddenly this feels like a memory test. “Well, like Steve. And Sam. The little girl who can hold up a building with her mind. The king...um. The guy with the arrows… The hot redhead…that weird red flying guy with the cape... I feel like you know a lot of people who fit the bill.”

"I don't feel obligated." He sounds affronted by the suggestion.

“Okay, fine. But you still feel like you have to do it or no one else will--or maybe no one else can do it better. And that’s crazy, Tony. You’re not God. You deserve a day off.”

"There are people sure, but they're all maniacs and it's a miracle they're alive. And if Steve's out there I need to be out there too. Small fact, he doesn't take great care of himself."

“You don’t say. Me, I never met the guy.” Sarcasm.

_Sometimes I think you like getting punched._

“But Tony…” Should he say it? Maybe it’s a dream thing that he doesn’t remember. “Steve’s out there right now. ...but he’s got Sam. You can take a break now and then.” Bucky’s not sure if that softened the blow or not.

 

*

 

Tony pushes himself up, terror struck. "Oh my god. Oh my god, you're right. What the hell am I doing?" No time for this.

“Whoa, Tony!” Bucky grabs his arm and yanks him back against him, hard enough to show his strength but not enough to hurt him. “This is a dream. Calm down. Shhh. Relax. Breathe. Come here.” He strokes Tony’s back, soothingly.

Done. Done talking about this. "Well I'm resting now right? This is relaxing. It counts."

“All right...then you gotta do it. If you wake me up, you gotta do this. Every day.” His arm around Tony is firm.

"Deal." Hand feels..."Feels nice."

Bucky looks surprised. “I--” At a loss for words, Bucky gently combs his fingers through Tony’s hair and shuts his eyes. Tony’s listening, wanting to prompt him, but he can’t seem to make himself respond. So tired all of a sudden. So tired and warm.

When he does wake up, he’s lying on his back on his roller. The lights too bright in his eyes. Cold. He fell asleep with a blanket over him, didn’t he? Or a coat? Something is missing. He can’t put his finger on it, but... something.

He sits up, groggy, and wipes the sleep from his eyes. What was that about? Strange dream. Uncomfortable and disconcerting. He remembers...an argument. He remembers being held...

He remembers blue eyes.

Tony scowls and throws the rag in his hand. _Rogers_. That’s enough of that. He gets up from the roller, stretches-- _Stiff. Ow_ \--and puts the thought of those blue eyes out of his head. Rhodey. He has Rhodey to check in on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Tony and Bucky getting along? Being friendly with each other? even more then friendly??? Look it was a complete surprise to me too and I wrote it so I'm sorry if it was a bit of a shock, but honestly they are so good together it's unreal. At any rate, if you enjoyed it, there will be more Tony and Bucky *coughs* canoodling in things to come in this series. Thank you for reading!
> 
> AJW


End file.
